When Darkness prospers
by LadyMorgaineLeFay
Summary: This is an old one, from when I was wondering about Amara's plot line. (Set in 11) . . Dean is linked to Amara and as the brothers are struggeling to find means to fight her, Crowley of all things is the one that discovers a possible solution. But it comes at high costs... . Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters. Sadly I just own my story-ideas and my characters.
1. Chapter 1

He had been driving for at least five hours straight. If he hadn't known it any better, he would have sworn to high heaven that he could feel dark circles already forming around his eyes. Next to him sat Sam, who had been fallen asleep on the passenger seat, all safe and sound, his jacket wrapped around his body. As the silence wore on he could make out slight snores coming from somewhere he assumed was his brother's mouth and he noticed the very brother cuddling up to the car seat.

_If he drools on my baby, I swear I will kill him_. He scowled and gazed back on the darkening streets. It seemed like the sky got darker the more they moved forwards; the streets almost being swallowed up by that odd dyed ceiling.

"Awesome", he muttered and carefully tried to rub his eyes without losing hold of the wheel. He frowned. For an instant he was lead to believe that there was someone standing a little bit ahead at the side of the roads. But the image was gone just as he had blinked, baffled by this occurrence.

Great, was he now starting to see things? Before he could allow himself to start speculating, he was forced to apply the brakes with full strength, as there was a woman standing in the middle of the road, arms wide spread and way to close. He squinted his eyes and quickly glanced to his brother, who kept snoring like a freight train, despite the uneasy movement of the impala. An upcoming black fog agitated him to move back around, now realizing that it was surrounding him like bread does hamburger meat. As the fog cleared he found himself face to face with the one person he wanted dead since the first time he had seen her, well at least that's what he wanted when she was absent.

"Amara.", he said, helplessly looking for something to fight her, but she had brought them to a field and there was nothing but flowers in reach.

"Dean.", her warm voice dug in his heart and it frightened him that it felt good. "We should talk." She took a step towards him which instantly made him step back.

"About what?", he frowned as he felt fascination arising and struggled to keep up his mistrust.

"Dean. ", she exclaimed again, leaving him wondering why she liked to call out his name so much, "We share a great bond. Dean! You can't deny it. ", Suddenly she was alongside him, he could feel her breath warming his ear: "How can you even sleep after downing that much coffee?! " Irritated he opened his mouth, unable to find a remarkable saying and he flinched as she shouted again. "Dean! DEAN! "

...

"Dean! Come on man, wake up! ", not being capable of getting through to his passed out brother was unnerving him and he set to another try, concern slightly resonating in his voice. "Dean. There's somebody trying to steal the impala." To his frustration not even a minor twitch was achieved by this trick and he straightened back up, massaging his aching knees. A deep sigh escaped his mouth as he grabbed a glass, which he then filled with water. He knew Dean would probably want to kill him for this, but he was left with no other choice. Quickly he spilled the algid content of the glass on his resting brother and moved back, a nearly mischievous smile on his lips.

Dean began coughing as the water entered his nose and started up. He had a bewildered look around, water seeping from his reddened eyes, which almost made him seem pitiful.

"What the hell, man? ", he croaked angrily, wiping off what had roused him from his snugly sleep, "Can't you wake me like any normal person would? " – "It didn't work on you. ", Sam shrugged off the angry looks his brother threw at him and pulled up a chair to sit down next to him. "Your position didn't look that comfortable anyway."

"If you say so, princess. ", Dean grabbed his cup with a nerved mumble only to detect that it was empty. At once it landed back on the table, sending a claiming clangour through the room.

"So...", Sam cleared his throat in an attempt to get his brother's attention, "I did some more digging while you were ... out. There were several homicides in a smaller town in Colorado within the last few weeks and by several I mean around 50." He had turned his laptop towards Dean so that he could read the article, but instead the latter raised his hands to rub his eyes while grumbling: "So, there are some nut cases running around and playing the Reaper, what's that got to do with us?"

Sam heaved a sigh and flipped the electric device over to himself again: "Dude. 50 cases of death in three weeks due to murder. The killers were neither related anyhow nor were they members of the same community. Sounds kind of supernatural, don't you think? " – "Yeah, Sammy, there are scary things out there in the dark.", with a noisy creak Dean's sullen statement was accompanied as he stood up and shoved his chair aside, "Let some other hunters deal with it. We've got more important things to worry about."

He headed for the fridge and after a short appraisal of the content he pulled out a bottle of beer. Ignoring the disapproving glance Sam shot him, he took a few sips, realizing full of relish how the chill liquid cooled down his throat. "Dean.", Sam shifted in his chair, trying to mask out the fact that his brother was drinking alcohol for breakfast, "This might be the only lead we got on Amara."

Hearing her name almost made Dean choke on his precious drink: "What?" He turned to face his brother who was now bent over his laptop again.

"Yeah." Sam was eagerly going through the articles he had found, "Apparently most of the predators that were caught stated that they felt they had done no wrong. Some even tried to harm their inmates and the prison officers. Unless for a reason there's a bunch of demons seriously messing with this people, I would say their soul has been taken." – "Which would mean that Amara has been there.", Dean nodded thoughtfully and took another sip, "Awesome." - "Or that she still is." , Sam propped himself on his elbows and looked at his brother. "I think it is worth a try.", he said forcefully.

Dean sighed and put down his drink: "Alright. What town are we talking about?" He stretched himself full of beans as if this way he could expel the tiredness from his body. "The town's called Durango." , Sam read and Dean shook his head: "What's that supposed to be? Indiana Jones theme park?!" – "It's spanish, Dean.", Sam said, a gentle smile emerged upon his lips.

"That's why you've got the brain and I've got the looks, Collegeboy.", Dean grinned widely and turned around, preparing to leave the room, "Make me some coffee, will ya?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"You sure could use some.", Sam snapped back only to be greeted by an old known "Bitch" from his brother, to which he friendly replied with "Jerk".

So, I'm eager to know what you think about it! :)


	2. Chapter 2

With moaning tire the impala drew in the town and the sound of a cushioned guitar solo seemed to be the only noise breaking the silence. Dean turned to look for a good parking spot, quietly tapping his fingers to the music. The streets were oddly deserted and shortly he wondered whether this town even was inhabitated. Appereantly some of the houses were designed to look like old western buildings. Grinningly Dean imagined the residents of the small town dressing accurately and couldn't bar himself from thinking of girls in those red saloon dresses riotously dancing to piano music. Hell, he wouldn't say no to a little dance.

"Over there.", Sam's sudden statement made him jump inwardly and covertly he glanced sidewards, almost feeling guilty for having these kind of thoughts in his little brother's presence. Then again, Sammy couldn't possibly know about it...

Dean peered to where Sam was pointing at and had to step on the brakes forcefully to pull in the nearest parking lot. The impala jerked to a halt right in front of the only building where evidently some living people were inside. Dean figured as much as he saw a bottle being thrown out of the open door and crashing immensely close to his baby's bonnet on the dusty floor.

"Hey!" Dean instantly sat up straight and tried hard to hold back the arising anger while he fumbled with the seatbelt, "Son of a bitch..." Finally the belt snapped open, leaving Dean hastily lunging for the door handle and he had almost put his foot on said ground as he was being forced down again by a strong hand.

Completely confused and still angry he glanced to where the strong hand was attached to: "What the hell, Sammy?!" – "Dean!" His brother cut him off with an appeasing gesture, "Calm down, okay! It's of no use to us if we raise suspicion. So having a go at someone at midday is really not gonna help keeping a low profile."

Dean grunted to state disagreement.

"Neither will it increase our chance on finding Amara, you know."

Again, the elder brother was caught off-guard when hearing the enemy's name and he found himself slowly relaxing in the seat. The sound of her name touched him somewhere uncomfortably deep inside and his hands cramped quietly at the steering wheel as he tried to shake off these unwelcome feelings. Then he sat back. "You win, Cowboy!" Dean said with a big grin and turned to his brother, hiding every dark thought he might have had a moment ago. "Now get your dirty Ranger boots out of my car and go get us something to eat!"

For a brief second Sam just stared at him, possibly regretting having been so reasonable with his stubborn brother again. Then he just swallowed his protest and got out and Dean contentedly leaned back. He eclipsed the sound of his brother's steps as the latter walked to the roadhouse, in front of which he had parked the impala. He squinted as the name of the said house blurred before his eyes and raised his hand to ream them and clear his view, as if it was about wiping a windshield. It actually had an effect and he could make out "Bobtail's nest" to be written on the board that was attached to the roof of the roadhouse. Frowning he mused about his little brother's taste in restaurants as a yawning escaped his mouth and his head sank to lean on his chest as he slowly closed his eyes, barely recording a heavy sound that broke the midday's silence with a deafening detonation...

.

"Dean! DEAN!", if Sam sounded frightened this time, he truly was. Maybe it was a bit more of a shock of finding his brother possibly struck dead by a wooden chair which must had been following the bottle out of the building a moment after Sam had got out of the car and which now poked out of the cracked front shield. He quickly ran around the car and trembling he opened the driver's door a bit wider to get a better look at what he hoped to be his brother in one piece.

"Dean..." he stopped and eyed the scene with disbelief. The wooden chair's legs had missed his brother by an inch, surrounding his head closely and he felt his muscles relax in relief. An angry sound made by the said victim of this attack broke through his fascinated inspections and he glanced to find his brother looking at him, a murderous look in the eyes. "Are you okay?" Sam asked, although he knew Dean surely had other things on his mind he would rather talk about. Actually he would be really pleased if Dean decided to just talk about them.

"I am so going to kill this son of a bitch!" the elder one growled threateningly and rushed to climb out of the car.

"Dean..." Sam said petitionary and stepped aside as his brother dragged at his shirt which had been stuck on a leg of the chair.

"I am not going to calm down, okay!" finally Dean had freed himself and now stood at the bonnet to inspect the damage. "That freaking bastard has thrown a chair on my baby. A whole fucking chair... Look at this, Sammy. I ..." He threw his hands up in horror and glanced towards the roadhouse.

Then he turned to Sam again, a darksome look on his face. "Not a word, Sammy. I'm going in there and hell, I will be having a go at that someone that hurt my baby, you bet!" Determinedly he stormed off and Sam helplessly sighed as he followed his hot headed brother into the probably awaiting trouble. Speaking of low profile.

.

From the outside Sam could already make out a voice shouting angrily and he entered the saloon in anticipation of a big fight. Promptly a glass flew at him and barely missed his head as it crashed on the door frame.

There was a dead silence.

For a moment he wondered whether it was because of his arrival.

Just then he saw Dean grabbing a boy by the scruff of the neck and he knew it was not a silence that was raised by surprise, but by disturbance and unsettledness. As he advanced his brother in worry of the outcome of this situation, a middle-aged man stepped into the room from where Sam assumed was the kitchen and forcefully grabbed Dean's arm, "What do you think you're doing to my son?" A wise calmness resonated in his voice and Sam decided to like this man straightaway.

He watched Dean angrily strengthening his grip and quickly moved forward, "Dean! It's just a kid!"

Dean glanced at him over his shoulder, frowning and Sam felt his concern slowly transforming into fear. Then a deep sigh could be heard when his brother hesitantly lost his hold on the boy and Sam wondered how this tiny kid could be able of lifting and mainly throwing a massive wooden chair.

"Listen Mister. I don't want to rock the boat more than necessary." Dean turned to the man, who gave his still son a pat on the back, "This Hulk-fan here damaged my car and..." – "...and maybe." Sam quickly stepped in, bearing in mind not to mix up the already tense situation and earning another death glare from his brother, "Maybe now we can sit down and talk about... all this." – "What? But how?" the man exclaimed in disbelieve and turned to his son, "Jason, what did you do?"

The boy lowered his eyes and Sam swiftly cleared his throat, "Well...he threw a chair just a moment ago. It broke the front shield and almost hit my brother..." – "Seriously. Your kid has some serious anger-issues." Dean blurted out still frowning, eyes set on the little monster.

"I think it's best to call the police." The father stated, turning away towards the telephone that hung near the counter.

Distracted by this, in Sam and Dean's opinion, bad idea, Dean looked at the gray-haired man, only registering movement before him when he felt a blow to where no man should ever be forcefully touched at. He squinted and hunched down, groaning in pain. "Dean!" he heard the both surprised and concerned voice of his brother, but as he looked up, he only saw the boy lifting a big pot, just before it collided with his head, sending him to the ground. He barely registered small feet running past him and some shouting before his eyes rolled back in his head, and his mind gave in to the welcoming darkness.


End file.
